Pigeons, Time and my Life Fly By

Wood PigeonI am awakened by the sound of Wood Pigeons. I smile and roll over snuggling into my warm bed. It’s Saturday so I am in no hurry to move.

No school today. My mum only works for a couple of hours on a Saturday morning and will be home soon. We always enjoy breakfast together before getting ready for the one o clock bus into Darlington.

Saturday is shopping day. First stop is ‘Pietro’s’ where my mum gets her hair fixed. Pietro is a very handsome Italian, he makes my mum blush, and that makes me laugh. Next stop Woolworth’s, where I always get a treat. We wander around the ‘covered in market’ for Yorkshire Curds, meat and whatever else takes our fancy, and we finish up in the Co-op.

Sometimes we buy fish and chips and eat them on the way home.

Yes, I like Saturdays.  CIMG0145

I like shopping with my mum in Darlington. I love the little village of Summerhouse, my home.

Finally I open my eyes, ready to enjoy the day.

Something isn’t right. I rub my eyes and look again.

This isn’t my cozy bedroom in Summerhouse. It’s a lovely room, but not mine, or is it?

I see white wooden shutters on the windows with a green and gold chaise beneath them. I look towards the double doors leading out to the stairs, and the vaulted ceiling of the room beyond.

This is a lovely house, but it isn’t Summerhouse, this is Colorado.

It’s not 1963 anymore and I am not six years old.

In what seems the ‘blink of an eye’ the years flew by. Where did they go?

The year is 2013 and I am old. My mum passed away a long time ago.

The Wood Pidgeon is still outside, but I think he is mocking me now.



Friday 13th. The last bus home.

There were rarely more than six people on the 11 pm bus from town to the small village in which I lived. I often wondered why it still ran, but I was happy it did because the cost of a taxi would have prevented me from enjoying my Friday night in town with my friends. Yes I had a car, but I liked a drink on a Friday night and I was too fond of living to drive home drunk.

The drivers got to know those of us who traveled on the late night bus, which was comforting, as we were prone to falling asleep. If this happened the friendly driver would wake us up when we reached our stop.

On Friday May 13th I tripped over my skirt as I stepped onto the last bus home, almost falling on my knees. I saved myself at the last-minute and looked up at the driver, laughing. I was expecting to see Gerry’s face smiling back at me, always ready to crack a joke. Gerry was usually the late night driver on a Friday. Instead looking back at me was a stern, pale skinny face of a man who looked like Adolf Hitler. He wasn’t laughing.

“Fare please.Hurry along now.” he said.

I looked behind me, wondering why I had to hurry. “Come along we haven’t got all night.” he added.

I was the only person getting on the bus, so what was the hurry? I put my money on the little black counter and waited for my change. Adolf gave me a ticket, but no change. I wasn’t going to argue with him. Instead of sitting at the front of the bus as I usually did, I went right to the back. I didn’t want to pass the time by chatting to this driver and I am pretty sure the feeling was mutual. 

I looked at my watch, it was almost eleven. Was I going to be the only passenger? I really didn’t want to be on the bus alone with this man. Something about him was disturbing. I thought about getting off, but how would I get home? I had no money for a taxi.

The doors of the bus closed and we pulled away so fast that my head hit the back window.

As we waited for the lights to turn to green, allowing us to pull onto the main road Gerry’s face appeared. He was driving another bus, which was pulling up beside us. I looked at the handful of passengers and saw some familiar faces. I banged on the window scared, knowing something was wrong, but they were there for a moment and then they were gone as Adolf accelerated into the night.

I had a feeling I was on a bus ride to hell!

I am amusing myself by blogging short stories as I work with my editor to finish my novel ‘Dead of July’.

(Preview) Dead of July

I also have two short stories available for a little while longer on Amazon. They are my first published works, and I have recieved some great reviews. These stories are very special to me, and early next year, I am going to have my new editor review them, after which I will re-launch them in a book of short stories. I have a lot of work ahead of me.

Girl on the Beach (UK)

Girl on the Beach (US)

Guy at the Bar Amazon

Guy at the Bar Amazon UK

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Book Previews!

As I learn a little more about the writing and publishing world, I find more ways to allow you to preview my work.

Attached are previews from my three books.

‘Girl on the Beach’ and ‘Guy at the Bar’ are already for sale as E-book and P-books.

‘Dead of July’ is with my editor and will be released soon.

When ‘Dead of July’ is released I have decided to do a further edit my first two stories and re-release them. Both have recieved great reviews, but as I learn more I want to make them even better. My readers deserve it.

Writing and publishing are a learning process and I am loving it, but still learning.

https://createspace.com/Preview/…      (Girl on the Beach)

https://createspace.com/Preview/…      (Guy at the Bar)

https://createspace.com/Preview/…        (Dead of July available soon)

Darlington – County Durham

Darlington CLock Tower

Free e-book (Smashwords)

No, this is not Big Ben, this is the Clock Tower in the middle of the high street in Darlington. Darlington was my old stomping ground when I was a teenager. Did I ever notice this clock tower…..of course not. I probably looked at it every Frida and Saturday night, but never saw it.

I have lived in Colorado since 1995, and before that, in the south of England since 1977 so my Darlington days ranged from around 1973 until 1976. They were fun times. We were all weekend hippies. We worked responsible office jobs during the day, and then donned our maxi skirts at weekends.

Its 2011 now and my hippie days are over, but I am looking forward to returning to Darlington, and remembering days gone by.

I want to find good pub where I can have a couple of drinks before getting some fish and chips in Post House Wynd and then along High Row eating them and remember how much fun I had back in the seventies.